


#21 - Don't Come Easy

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Eurovision 2017 Fanfic Challenge [23]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Near Future Fic, Reconciliation, Reflection, ed tries to sort out his emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 07:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10986630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Edward and Oswald have formed a truce at some point after their feud. Ed thinks over Oswald's actions and tries to figure out his own feelings.





	#21 - Don't Come Easy

Ed was sitting on the back porch of the cabin they were currently camped out (i.e. hiding) in. A warm mug of coffee was wrapped in his hands as he watched the sun rise behind the trees. Truly a picturesque sight, although his mind was far from the nearest star. He and Oswald were on better terms these days, but what the specifics of their relationship were he did not know. Friends? They had been before, but things were different now. The easy trust they had once held was shattered, replaced by the sort of wary trust of having seen each other at their very worst.

Oswald was a puzzle. He had always been a puzzle, which was why Ed had sought him out originally. His company would be many things, but never dull. There had been a time, only months ago, really, when Ed had thought he had found a pattern in Oswald. The puzzle had never been solved, but he thought he understood. He had been wrong. Now, though, Oswald was more confusing than ever. Every moment together had Ed's brain whirring, unsure of the boundaries, unsure of the motives, unsure of everything. The feeling infuriated him, but giving up was the wrong way to go about it.

At the center of it all was one question. Well, three, technically. Did Oswald still love him? And if so, how? Why?

If he could figure that part out, he could unravel the rest. It should have been a simple matter of asking, or of laying traps, or of careful observation. Why then had he not done so? Simple. He was terrified of the answer, whatever it may be. If Oswald didn't love him, what more-than-likely-sinister intention was behind his forgiveness? If Oswald _did_ love him, did Ed love him back? The answer to that was both so simple and so complex that Ed's hands twitched with unfulfilled compulsions. _Kill. Hug. Strangle. Kiss._ It was hardly a surprise that Ed's lovers had a tendency to end up dead. Clearly, the same part of his brain moderated his passions, both of the romantic and of the murder varieties.

The thought of loving Oswald filled him with fear, but fear for whom? For himself, should he be rejected? For Oswald, should he end up dead? For any other poor souls like Isabella? Yet, simultaneously, a deep part of himself knew the Penguin was good for him. He didn't just crave company, or an equal, or acceptance - he craved the kind of strength and resilience that Oswald possessed. He craved support. And getting support as a socially awkward, know-it-all, mass murderer was _hard_. Oswald was, in fact, the only person he knew who had been willing to put up with _all_ of his shit.

Ed had thrown that away and he'd fallen because of it. He'd fallen far and when he'd hit the bottom, he picked up a shovel and dug deeper. Sure, in the deep, dark pit he'd found power, and wealth, and the sheer joy of being feared, but it didn't stop the pit from being just that. A pit. Oswald may have been Hephaestus, but when he'd been thrown from the mountain, he'd clawed and shot his way back to the top, and he'd do it again and again, as many times as necessary, because Oswald didn't care to be in a pit. Ed needed someone like that to help him escape. These days, he could only recall and imagine what it was like to be that high above everyone else.

So here Ed sat, staring at a giant fireball in space, weighing the pros and cons of the gamble that was loving Oswald. The Penguin himself was inside, only now waking for the day. As Ed turned to watch the groggy mob boss run a hand through his ruffled hair and grumble as he searched for coffee grounds, he found an unanticipated smile creeping onto his face. He stood and stepped inside, feeling certainty for the first time in months.

"Here, I made you some, too," he gestured at the mug he'd left on the table. When had he fallen back into the habit of trying to solve Oswald's problems before they arose?

"You're a gift," the Penguin murmured, taking the much needed beverage. This time, Ed let himself study the way Oswald's eyes lingered on him for a moment too long before darting away, staring at the floor as if it had insulted his mother.

"Oswald?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad we're done fighting. I still find it hard to trust you, but I think I want to."

Oswald stared at him like it was entirely too early for this discussion. Ed shrugged, "Just a thought."

Later that day, when Oswald was busy trying to assess exactly _how_ wanted the two of them were at the moment, Ed noticed his jacket hung over the back of a chair. He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled down the riddle that he'd been turning around in his head for the past few hours and slipped the note into the coat pocket.

_If I am taken from you,_   
_Less times you'll want to give me away._   
_Over a lifetime I am formed,_   
_Vividly recognized in a day._   
_Eternal if true, dangerous if false,_   
_You crave and you fear my pull,_   
_Or you valiantly ignore my name,_   
_Until I'm returned in full._

**Author's Note:**

> That riddle took me way too long but I'm proud of it. All of my fanfic riddles will eventually be posted on my (extremely) new twitter account, RiddlerTwittler, dedicated to gotham with a new riddle every monday (and at this point that's it, i'm still figuring out twitter okay). You can also find my rants, my random stuff, and my gotham liveblogs on tumblr at singtheskyandfightlikehell


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